The light had only just faded.
The dust had barely settled from Overhaul's catastrophic defeat.
All Might barely standing, supported by Gran Torino and Aizawa, his left hand raised like a battle-worn flag.
Civilians peeked out from behind rubble and shattered windows, slowly beginning to cheer, tears of relief spilling as the sight of the Symbol of Peace standing tall once more reached them.
The storm was over… or so they thought.
But then—
A chill swept through the battlefield.
An unnatural breeze curled through the air, despite no wind blowing. It twisted around them like smoke… cold andsuffocating.
From nowhere—a voice.
Low. Slithering. Cruel.
"Huhuhu... Did you miss me, Toshinori?"
The world stopped.
All Might's eyes widened. His spine went rigid.
The moment that voice hit the air, it was like an invisible spear had pierced every heart present.
He turned slowly—his jaw trembling.
"T-this voice… M-Masaka…"
Gran Torino's entire body tensed. His fists clenched. Even his aging form seemed to vibrate with instinctual dread.
A cold, black ripple opened behind a nearby crater—a portal, dark and churning like tar.
A foot emerged first. Then a cane.
And then—the monster himself.
All For One stepped out of the void.
Clad in armor-like black, his form regal and haunting, a walking god of malice. His helmet's faint glow pulsed like the heart of a collapsing star. The weight of his presence crashed upon the battlefield like a second quake.
"ALLL FORR ONEEE!!"
All Might's roar split the air—raw, furious, and laced with something he hadn't felt since the festival:
True fear.
Across the field, silence fell.
Tokoyami's wings twitched as his eyes widened.
Jirou dropped her earjacks, blood draining from her face.
Kaminari froze mid-step, a cold sweat running down his back.
Kendo instinctively reached for Mineta, steadying herself.
Fat Gum's fists curled. Even his usual hearty spirit was now steel.
Crimson Riot whispered under his breath.
"W-why is he back?"
The civilians went utterly still. Some clutched their children. Others dropped to their knees. Several screamed softly—but it was as if the very air muted them.
It was terror.
Not the kind that came from destruction.
But from presence alone.
This was not just a villain.
This was the Symbol of Fear.
All Might stood tall despite his exhaustion, shaking but burning with renewed fury.
His lips curled back in defiance even as his heart pounded.
Gran Torino gritted his teeth.
"We don't have the strength for this, not even you Toshinori…"
Aizawa's hand dropped to his scarf again, blood still dripping from his arm."…But we're not letting him take anything more."
And from behind them, civilians and heroes alike watched in paralyzed awe… as the next nightmare began.
The battlefield had gone cold again.
All For One's arrival washed over everyone like a second eclipse—darker, heavier than the dust cloud left by Overhaul's destruction.
His very presence seemed to drain the colour from the world, turning hope to ash in the air.
But even amid that dread, one figure stood tall.
All Might.
He exhaled slowly, blood still lining the corners of his lips. His shoulders ached with every breath. His arm trembled from deflecting Overhaul's blast, and his legs felt more like splinters than muscle—but still, he faced forward.
His eyes narrowed on the monster across the crater.
His decision was made.
"…Everyone-" All Might said, not turning to look at them, his voice ragged yet firm,
"Fall back."
The words sank in like a spear to the gut.
"I'll take him… alone."
Behind him, Gran Torino's eyes snapped wide.
"…You can't be serious!" he said, stepping forward, his boots scraping dust.
"Toshinori, you're already half-dead. You can't even stand straight!"
Aizawa, still gripping his bleeding arm, scowled.
"Don't be an idiot! This isn't some noble gesture—it's a suicide note!"
But All Might didn't flinch.
He raised his voice.
"I SAID GO!!"
The force of it stilled the air.
Even the wind paused.
He didn't yell out of anger—but out of sheer desperation. Not for his life, but for theirs.
All Might's shoulders hunched with exhaustion, but his eyes blazed like a storm held back by sheer will.
"…Please," he added softly, almost like a whisper.
"Take everyone with you. Protect them… while I still can."
The heroes exchanged stunned looks. The students, some still catching their breath, others holding each other, were struck silent. Tokoyami opened his mouth to speak but couldn't form a word. Jirou clutched her chest. Kendo bit her lip so hard it drew blood.
Finally, Gran Torino closed his eyes.
He clenched his fists… and let them go.
"…Fine," he said, lips tight.
"But this isn't your battle alone. I'll be back. You'd better still be breathing when I return, Toshinori."
He turned, gesturing to the others.
"Everyone—move out! We regroup at safe zone 'Siphon'."
The group hesitated—but obeyed.
As they began to pull back, some glancing behind with haunted expressions, a sinister chuckle echoed across the ruins.
"Am I interrupting something?"
All For One's voice slithered like a blade between All Might's ribs.
He raised one arm lazily, like brushing dust off his coat.
"Let me clean up this trash first-" he growled, "so we can finish our dance, All Mightoo…"
Suddenly—
A blast of compressed air surged toward the retreating group. Invisible but monstrous, it howled like a cannon—ripping apart the very atmosphere as it sped toward the students and injured pros.
The earth cracked beneath its path. Windows shattered. Rubble lifted like paper in its wake.
But before it could reach them—
All Might appeared.
Like a golden bolt, he threw himself in front of the wave. His body twisted, and with a grunt of agony, he blocked it with one arm.
The impact shattered his sleeve. His uniform shredded from the shoulder down, revealing raw, bleeding skin. His entire body rattled, muscles screaming in resistance.
But he did not move.
Blood began to drip from his knuckles. His stance buckled. He spat to the side—and straightened again.
"I'm your opponent."
"Not them."
The statement was cold. Stern. Unyielding.
All For One lowered his arm slightly, amused.
The force of the block sent a low shockwave through the city, as if the very earth acknowledged what was coming.
It was no longer the heat of battle or the stench of smoke. It was the tension of a storm gathering strength. A tension everyone could feel—heroes, students, and villains alike.
They didn't want to leave.
Not a single one.
But they knew they had to.
With every step back, their hearts sank further. Kaminari glanced over his shoulder one last time, whispering, "Sensei…" Tokoyami kept his wings spread protectively around Jirou and Shoji as they helped civilians to safety. Kendo clenched her fists so hard her palms bled, but she kept moving, knowing that staying would only endanger the one who now stood alone.
All Might.
He didn't watch them leave.
He couldn't.
Because his gaze never once left the figure before him.
All For One stood calmly, arms behind his back, as though waiting for a performance to begin. His mask gleamed under the broken skyline, fractured clouds swirling above like the eye of a hurricane.
"They're gone-" he said, his voice casual, but laced with venom.
"You've grown weak. Too weak. I could squash you with one hand right now… and end this."
He chuckled softly.
"It's almost funny, really."
All Might's eyes narrowed. His arms trembled from overuse, but his legs remained rooted to the cracked ground.
"…What's so funny?"
"What fun is there in killi-"
All For One tilted his head, mockingly.
"Oh please… don't drop such tired, boring lines."
He took a step forward, the gravel beneath his boots grinding like bones.
"Someone else used to say things like that. Someone brave. Someone noble. Wanna know who it was?"
All Might's stomach turned to stone.
His fingers twitched.
All For One's mask dipped low as if grinning.
"It was Shimura Na—"
"DON'T YOU DARE REPEAT HER NAME WITH THAT FOUL MOUTH OF YOURS!!!"
The sky cracked.
In a blur of motion, All Might launched himself toward All For One, his entire body blazing with fury. His arms were locked, slamming into All For One's as their fingers interlocked in a grapple of pure force.
The impact sent out a thunderclap. A wave of pressure exploded from their clash, flattening the rubble around them and sending chunks of debris flying outward like missiles.
Their eyes locked.
One filled with rage.
The other with amused malice.
"She was a hero you could never understand!" All Might roared.
"She fought to save people. To smile in the face of fear. Something you've never been capable of!"
All For One merely chuckled, but even his stance shifted slightly under the force of All Might's wrath.
The ordeal had begun. Again.
Only this time… All Might fought not for the world.
Not for his title.
But for her.
For Shimura Nana.
For everyone.
"Tch… just this much strength?"
All For One tilted his head with boredom, the sound of metal shifting within his mask.
"It's not even challenging anymore, Toshinori."
His voice echoed like a hammer to the chest.
All Might gritted his teeth, fists clenched so tight blood began to trickle from his palms. His muscles trembled—not from fear, but from the weight of anger, grief, and raw determination.
His lips curled into a snarl.
"Don't…" he whispered, staggering to his feet.
But it was too late.
All For One swiped his arm, a compressed shockwave bursting from his knuckles—and in a blink, All Might's body was sent flying like a ragdoll. He crashed into the side of a ruined bus, denting the metal and cracking the pavement beneath him. For a moment, it was silent—just the wind howling through the city.
Then, slowly, with every breath sounding like thunder through glass, All Might began to rise.
His right arm hung limp. His ribs burned. His leg buckled beneath him.
But he stood.
He always stood.
'Ah. I'm tired. I'm exhausted and I barely have a minute or two before I fall , I didn't wanted the young one to see their 'Symbol of Peace' fallen. I have been fighting for 3 days. I've reached my limit now. Midoriya-shounen, Even if I don't want to as you are still immature , I have to leave everything up to you now.'- All Might's thought.
All For One watched with cold amusement.
"This look," he said with a chuckle.
"This desperation… it reminds me of her. Of Shimura."
That was it.
The flicker of fire behind All Might's eyes exploded into an inferno.
With a roar that shook the cracked windows of nearby towers, he surged forward.
"CAROLINA… SMAAAASH!!"
His fist carved the air like a cannonball, blue lightning lacing his shoulder, the wind howling behind him. It collided with All For One's outstretched hand—and stopped.
Stopped.
Blocked.
"Just this?" All For One said coldly.
"Pathetic."
Meanwhile…
Gran Torino landed on the outskirts of a safer zone, his body hunched but alive. The moment his boots touched ground, he was already turning back toward the battlefield.
"I'll be leaving," he said without hesitation.
Before he could launch, a firm hand gripped his shoulder.
Aizawa.
Gran Torino turned, brows raised.
"You can't stop me-" he said gruffly.
"I'm not stopping you," Aizawa replied, his red-hued eyes glowing faintly.
"My quirk… it's back. I'm coming too."
The two exchanged a silent nod. The kind that meant more than words ever could.
"Then grab on," Torino said.
"I'll take us there fast."
A few of the student heroes tried to follow—Kendo, Kaminari, even Tokoyami took a step forward, but Torino's voice cracked like a whip.
"NO. You guys can't help with this. You'll only be a burden. And right now…"
He looked toward the smoke-filled battlefield, where two legends clashed like gods.
"He needs soldiers, not students."
Aizawa gave them a final look of reassurance before grabbing Torino's shoulder. With a BOOM, they vanished—cutting through the skyline like a bullet—heading back toward where All Might stood battered, outnumbered… but unbroken.
After a couple of minutes ,
Gran Torino and Aizawa had just arrived, and what they saw nearly made his heart stop.
All Might—his friend, his pride, the very symbol of peace—was no longer towering. He was shrunken, drenched in blood, his uniform shredded, his body dangling helplessly by the throat.
All For One held him with a single mutated hand, the expression on his face twisted into a grin carved straight from hell.
"LEAVE HIM, YOU BASTARD!!" Torino roared, his voice a thunderclap of raw fury.
In his mind, a scene replayed—the day Nana died. Her broken body.
Toshinori's tears. His own helplessness.
'It's happening again… No. Not this time. NOT AGAIN!!'
A furious burst of wind exploded beneath him as he rocketed forward, a comet of vengeance. Blood streamed from All Might's right eye, but he managed to rasp, "L-Look o-out—!"
Torino's eyes widened. "What?"
WHIP!
A black, sinewy arm erupted from the ground and wrapped around his waist.
"Nani?!"
Before Torino could react, another grotesque limb shot out and speared straight through his abdomen.
SHUNK.
Blood burst from his mouth as his goggles cracked and his body lurched. The old hero was thrown like a ragdoll, smashing against the rubble, motionless.
All Might's tears spilled freely. "N-No… GRAN TORINO!!"
All For One licked his lips with a grotesque chuckle, his mutated arms squirming like snakes.
"Aw, are you feeling desperate, All Might?" he said, voice brimming with ecstasy.
"How does it feel? Watching your friends fall. One by one."
A blur dropped beside Torino's crumpled form—Aizawa. His hair clung to his bloodied face, eyes wide with horror.
"Old man… no, no no—don't die!" he muttered, frantically unwrapping his combat scarf and binding Torino's wound. His fingers shook as he pressed down, blood soaking through. He looked up—and froze.
There stood All For One, now with six pulsating arms, his eyes glowing like furnace coals. Smoke hissed from the massive hole in his chest where All Might had landed his final, desperate blow—United States of Smash.
Just seconds earlier, All Might had drawn in the last ember of his power. His body, broken beyond measure, had still moved. His arm surged upward with a primal roar:
"UNITED STATES OF SMASH!!"
The impact shook the entire ward. A storm of shockwaves erupted, tearing the battlefield apart. Trees flattened. Craters formed. The heavens split open.
But when the dust cleared… he was still standing.
Two black needles gleamed in All For One's chest. A low hum vibrated the air.
Then it happened.
All For One's body twitched grotesquely, his mouth splitting in a grin too wide, too inhuman. A wave of mutated hands exploded from his back. Like a demonic spider, he surged forward.
Bones cracked. All Might's legs were snapped like twigs, and a shard of steel debris pierced his right eye. He collapsed, twitching, as blood spilled onto the ground.
Aizawa, eyes red with rage, turned toward the monstrous figure.
All for One's mutated form stood like a grotesque Demon at the center of it all—arms upon arms twitching and slithering across his massive back and shoulders.
From the fingertips of four specific arms, black and red steel-like whips uncoiled—hissing, glowing faintly with cursed energy.
They writhed as if alive.
And then they struck.
Four whips lunged at once, cracking through the air with thunderclap force. Aizawa leapt to the side, barely dodging the first, which shattered the ground where he stood.
The second came from the side, forcing him to spin mid-air and land in a crouch. But they didn't stop.
More poured forth—eight… twelve… sixteen, weaving through the air like demonic serpents, all aimed at him.
He activated Erasure in bursts—eyes glowing red, locking onto each arm and temporarily halting them, but they regrew, regenerated, reshaped—always more, always faster.
'I can't keep up—' Aizawa's thoughts raced, his body moving on instinct, cape and scarf tattered, his breath ragged.
Another whip brushed past his thigh—burning it like molten steel.
He grunted, spinning mid-air, barely landing on a broken slab of pavement.
Then came the next wave—two from above, one from behind, and another burrowing under the earth, trying to impale him from below.
Aizawa's mind screamed: "So , This is it. Every—"
CLANG!
A deafening metallic crash echoed like a bomb.
Couple of whips had been sliced clean in mid-air—not deflected, but destroyed, split down the middle by a spinning force of destruction.
Something had entered the battlefield.
But it wasn't just "something."
A colossal greatsword, spinning through the air like a saw blade, arced overhead.
The steel shimmered with embedded red runes and left a trail of energy in its wake, the wind pressure alone enough to shatter nearby windows.
It moved with unnatural precision—as if guided by fury itself.
A moment later, it boomeranged backward—right into the waiting hand of a man who landed with a BOOM that shook the entire street.
The shockwave threw dust into the air, obscuring the scene.
Then came the footsteps—heavy, deliberate.
From within the settling cloud emerged a silhouette.
Towering. Hulking. Broad as a building, tall enough to match—and maybe even surpass—All Might in his prime.
The man's crimson hair flowed wildly, the force of his landing sending strands dancing like fire. His muscles were corded steel , His shirt had been blown apart, remnants hanging from his waist.
His right arm held the massive greatsword—still steaming from the impact—its jagged edge glowing faintly red.
But it was his eyes that stole the scene.
No longer observant. No longer calm.
Aizawa, injured and panting, lifted his head—his eyes widened.
He knew who it was.
So did All Might, slumped against a boulder, eyes half-lidded from blood loss and exhaustion. Yet when he saw the figure, something in him flickered back to life.
The battlefield fell silent.
Even All For One, whose arrogance never waned, paused. The arms on his back shifted slightly, reacting to an unfamiliar presence—an equal.
"Oh! So , you're back? It seems like my product failed-" he muttered, more curious than threatened. For now.
The man didn't answer. He stood silently, staring at the villain with a gaze that pierced deeper than any blade.
Then—
In barely a whisper, through cracked lips, All Might rasped:
"Y…You…?"